


Shalom Aleichem

by Magnolie



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Candels, Canon Jewish Character, Fluff, Jewish Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:10:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2455958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnolie/pseuds/Magnolie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik has always lit the candels alone. Until Charles finds out about them one rainy Friday evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shalom Aleichem

**Author's Note:**

> Looking at it now, it would have probably made more sense to post this on a Friday evening, but since I don't know when you will be reading this, I guess, it's quite alright anyway. Beforehand, I would like to state that Shabbat-traditions may vary from familiy to family and this is just the way I have come to know it as a child.  
> Being German as well as Jewish, I really wanted to explore that side of Erik. That part of his past is almost more interesting to me than the fact that je controls metal, you might see why. Feel free to ask me, if there is something unclear, there really are no stupid questions and there is a small Jewish 'dictionary' attached to the end, just in case.  
> There will be more by the way soon :D

**Shalom Aleichem**

                         
  
                 _The Shabbat is a weekly cathedral raised up in my dining room, in my family, in my heart - Anita Diament_

 

 

He went upstairs first, his coat still on his shoulders, his hat on his head, it had been raining. His boots left wet imprints on the carpets, he had washed all the mud off outside in a relatively clean puddle of water, but they hadn’t dried yet and left his traces on the floor.  
There was no noise on the second floor and neither was there on the third. Raven’s door stood slightly ajar, but in the white light of the winter afternoon, her room lay empty behind her door, her bed neatly made and her desk cleaned up. The boy’s doors were all closed, he had to pass them on his way upstairs where Charles had furnished him a small suite on the same corridor as his own room was. Above them was but the attic and then the ancient roof and then the ever so soothing echo of the rain.  
From afar he saw how Charles’ door stood open widely, but no light fell into the dim corridor, Charles wasn’t there.

He hung his coat over the stand and placed his hat on the cupboard next to it. Looking in the mirror, he found a man twice his age, with dark shadows beneath his eyes and restlessness in his every feature.  
He didn’t pay him much attention, but went to his wardrobe to find a comfortable, yet decent black pullover and some nice trousers he carefully placed on his bed. The suite had a little, private bathroom with a toilet, a sink and a shower. He didn’t bother switching on the light before he went under the shower to warm up and wash down the haste of the bygone week.

He found his candles on the floor of his wardrobe where he kept them in the brown paper package in which they had been delivered to the house a good while ago. Not many were left, he would have to order new ones from the city came the new year, but there were still enough left for the coming Fridays.  
He kept the candle sticks downstairs in the kitchen cabinet next the soup plates. Everyone could see them there, but no one had ever asked for what purpose they were needed. Erik had never even seen that one of the others had ever paid any attention to them, even though they had soup almost twice a week. Some days he saw them up there when one of the kids was laying the table and for just the quarter of a second he wished someone might ask why those silver sticks, that never seemed to be touched by anyone, stood in the cabinet. No one ever did, and that least meant no one could comment on it or forbid it. He had lost so much, this little piece of him was worth protection, was worth maintaining.  
He had thought of telling Charles about lightening the candles, mostly out of the practical reason that he wanted to bake the Challah himself instead of getting yeast bread from the baker on Friday mornings, but then he didn’t want to bother him about it and somehow he liked to dwell on the melancholic solitude of spending the last hour before sunset on Fridays alone, preparing for the Shabbat. Still, he would never admit to it, but yes, he had imagined lightening the candles together, celebrating together, not being alone. For once.

The kids usually went into town for dinner and drinks together on Fridays, usually accompanied by Charles. The few times Charles stayed home on a Friday night, he buried himself so deep beneath tomes about chemo genetics and evolution theory in his study, that Erik sometimes found him fast asleep in his armchair long after midnight, leaving nothing for him, but wrapping his host in a blanket, so he wouldn’t catch a cold. That way, the kitchen was always empty between six and eight, leaving him time to light his candles, speak the prayer and disappear again before anyone even noticed he was there.

Carrying the candles and the Challah in his hands, he silently opened the kitchen doors and the cabinet with a single, small thought. He could have done the same with the candle sticks, but he preferred using his hands instead, carefully placing them on the wooden kitchen table before closing the doors again. The only light in the room came from the windows and was fading now, that the day drew to a close.  
He looked at his watch, 6:58pm, twenty minutes to sunset.

The matches were in the same place he usually found them in. Taking out one of the plates he tried to keep kosher and hid in the cupboard, he placed the Challah on the table next to the candle sticks and covered them with a white napkin. Once spring came, he would buy some flowers for the table too, but for now, it was his though that had to count. A small smile crept on his lips. His mother would have liked this. She would have appreciated it, that he was trying to keep up some of the old traditions, that he still lit the candles and silently hummed the songs and spoke the prayers. That he still remembered how to do it. That he hadn’t forgotten her. He sometimes hoped she would have been proud of him, had she seen it.

Only the striking of the clock made him remember to proceed or it would be dark before he was done. He had just lit one of the matches when he heard a noise in the salon that lay behind the kitchen doors, followed by soft steps that could only belong to one person in the household. Erik saw how the white kitchen doors slowly opened and Charles stepped into the room, frowning at him.

“What are you doing here?” Erik blew out the match. It smoldered between his fingers.

“Looking for food, it’s dinner time,” Charles replied, his glance shifting to the peculiar collection of objects on the table, “what are _you_ doing?” He asked and came closer.

“Nothing,” Erik replied, putting the matches back on the table and leaning on the chair. He couldn’t quite tell why his first reaction was to shrug it off. It was Charles he was talking too. Not a stranger. Old habits died hard.

“Are those Shabbat candles?”

Erik was surprised by the amount of curiosity in Charles’ voice and the smile that appeared on his face.

“Yes, how did you-“

“I might not be the brightest bulb on the box when it comes to religion and philosophy my friend, but I am able to connect a pair of candles and a yeast bun to a Friday evening.”

Erik looked at him in marvel. He hadn’t seen anybody being this interested in Jewish traditions since the SS had escorted them out of their flat one bleak Friday evening when he had still been a child. He watched Charles how he sat down opposite to him, folding his hands and carefully observing the engraved sticks.

“Marvelous work, quite lucky they survived the war…” he mumbled.

“They didn’t,” Erik cleared his throat, “I bought them in New York a while ago, these came closest to the ones we had at home.”

Suddenly, Charles face filled up with guilt and apologies one of which made it right into Erik’s mind. _I’m so sorry, please forgive me._ He wasn’t sure if on purpose or not.

“I can leave if you want to be to yourself,” Charles offered, but Erik raised a hand, showing him to sit.

“Just… just stay,” he said, almost inaudibly.

Charles remained seated, his auburn hair shimmering beautifully in fire of the candles Erik carefully lit one after the other. He set the matches aside, catching the light with the palms of his hands before he covered his eyes, silently humming.

 _Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam, asher kid'shanu bemitzvotav,_ _  
_wetzivanu lehadlik ner shel Shabbat._ _

When Erik uncovered his eyes and looked at the candles, Charles’ face was all lit up on the other side of the table. His smile was warm and welcoming, interested and caring.

“It’s tradition. Welcoming Shabbat on Friday evening lightening candles,” Erik tried to explain awkwardly.

“How long have you been doing this?” Charles enquired.

“The evening we came back from Cuba was a Friday. I left out the one when we were in Washington,” was Erik’s concise answer as he sat down and began to cut the Challah into pieces.

“You could have told me, you know,” Charles whispered almost a little disappointed.

“I haven’t exactly met many people so far that were interested in any Jewish traditions,” he argued and offered Charles the plate. Yes, old habits died hard.

His opposite took a piece and looked back at him.

“If it concerns _you_ , I _am_ interested,” Charles replied, chewing on a piece of the bun.

Erik presented him with a small, genuine smile and a nod. He wondered how it was possible not to fall for him, his natural curiosity, his welcoming smiles and his heartwarming kindness.

“I’m proud of you my friend,” He said, his hand touching Erik’s ever so softly across the table, “and I’m sure she would have been too.”

Erik placed his other hand on top of Charles’ and let his glare linger on them for a while.

“I don’t know much, but if you want, we can go looking for some cutlery, pots and pans next time we’re in the city. I’m sure we can clean one of the cabinets for you… now that I think about it, I actually feel bad about making you eat from our plates, do you even keep kosher? Do we need a second kitchen for you? And when is Chanukah this year, we need to...”

Erik stopped him there, laughing, he had such wonderful ways to lighten any mood.

“Charles I’m alright, thank you,” he said, caressing the telepath’s hands for one more time before letting them go, “candles are good, no second kitchen needed, I’ll eat what we cook and Chanukah isn’t until December.”

Charles let out a relived sigh and looked at the candles for another moment.

“Is that it?” he sheepishly asked.

“Well I usually watch them burn down while reading, Shabbat is a rather restful business.”

“So no work?”

“In the broadest sense,” Erik nodded.

“What about a game of chess with another restless soul?” Charles offered.

“I’d love that,” Erik replied with a smile.”

They took the candles and the remains of the Challah up to the study. Charles didn’t switch on the light, but set up the chessboard by the shine of the candles, offering white to Erik and taking black himself.

He would fall asleep in his armchair later this night, watching the candles burn down and listening to Erik’s stories about a Jerusalem made from gold, Hamantash and dreydlekh. Only when the light of last candle was diminishing, Erik took the soft, yellow blanket from the cupboard and wrapped it around Charles. Hovering over his forehead, he placed a small kiss on top of Charles’ hair and caressed it carefully.

“Schlaf’ gut, liebling,” he said, and the light faded.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Shabbat: 7th day of the week in the Jewish calender, G'd rested that day after creating the earth and commands all Jews to rest on that day too. Shabbat begins on Friday when teh sun had set and ends on Saturday evening, also at sunset. On Shabbat, any kind of work is prohibited and religious Jews try to rest, read, study the Thora or spend the day with their families.
> 
> Challah: Braided yeast bun, just look at the [[picture](http://www.lynnegolodner.com/wp-content/uploads/shabbat_table.jpg)]
> 
> to keep kosher: Eating according to dietry laws of teh Thora in the 3rd book of Moshe (Levitikus in the Christian Bible), not all Jews keep kosher and not all Jews keep kosher the same way, for some it starts with the pots the food is prepared in, others simply avoid the prohibited ingredients and many others don't care much at all
> 
> Jerusalem made of Gold : Audio [[here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rLoPDe2Au4o)] History [[here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerusalem_of_Gold)]
> 
> Hamantash: Seriously, if someone ever offers one to to, try them, they are AWESOME, more information [[here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hamantash)]
> 
> dreydlekh: picture [[here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dreidel)]


End file.
